


The Only One Left

by hallwayperson



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, The X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 07:05:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16132145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallwayperson/pseuds/hallwayperson
Summary: A plus one fic set right after the death of Scully's mom.





	The Only One Left

**Author's Note:**

> A plus one fic set right after the death of Scully's mom.

It’s not often he has seen her cry. When it had happened, he knew it was serious, knew it would be better to stay away. Or wait until she would seek him out.

Scully doesn’t like to talk about things.

No, with Scully it used to be sitting in the car, her little finger slowly finding its way to his before clutching his whole hand, and they wouldn’t go anywhere for the rest of the day. With her it had been putting on a stupid movie to watch it in silence. It had been spooning up for the night, none of them sleeping. Other times it had been urgent kissing, frantic pulling of clothes, and just a desperate need for something else than loneliness.

With her, he had quickly learned being comfortable with the uncomfortable. He never had been good at that. He needed words, big emotions, to let things out in order to move on. He was an open book that way whereas Scully would always have worlds inside of her he’d never truly get.

He wonders if she feels the same way.

They haven’t been able to talk really since they got back to the files. He has missed out on too much - she hasn’t. He’s the same old pathetic man he pushed her away from.

She’s standing there in their office, tears falling silently on the paper in her hands. Ink starts to bleed out and words become big black splotches. He’s observing her from the quiet comfort of the hallway and leaving her on her own isn’t an option.

It never had been.

“Are you okay, Scully?” he asks as he gently opens the door fully.

“How long have you been standing there?” she replies trying to remove all signs of tears. “I didn’t even hear you.”

“I just got here,” he lies, scared she’ll stop talking if he’s being too honest. “What are you reading?”

“It’s Charlie…” she manages to say. “It’s not bad.”

“What is it then?” he asks as he gets close enough to read the content of the letter. “He’s getting married?”

“I don’t know why it’s getting to me,” she tries to answer him but reaches for his hand instead. New tears run down her cheeks as words fail to come out. He lets go of her hand and embraces her, covering her fully with his arms.

“It’s okay, Scully,” he whispers into her hair, rocking her as if to keep a child calm, his hand resting gently on the back of her head. “You don’t have to explain.”

“Bill doesn’t know,” she tells him, cutting him short. “They stopped talking after mom’s funeral.”

“Do you talk with them?” he asks her, his lips planting soft kisses on top of her head, all his worries and wondering about where he stands in her life evaporating. Scully is his, always has been. Even if he’s unwanted and unforgiven. And there will never be a day where he doesn’t want her in his arms.

“I don’t really,” she tells him into his chest. “Not with Bill, but he wants someone from the family to be there on his day… and I’m the only one left.” Her voice breaks at the last part, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt, his tie, anything she can grasp. “I thought it would be easier with time, Mulder.”

“It will, Scully,” he assures her, his hand gently brushing her hair. “There will be a time where breathing will hurt a little less, where you will feel the pain as only a tiny sting followed by warmth coming from the love you have for them, the love you will keep having for them, and it will guide you. I promise you.” He lifts her head up and plants a soft kiss on her forehead before he rests his head against hers.

“I can’t go alone, Mulder,” she pleads, states it like a question, an offer, a chance of forgiveness for the time lost.

“When are we leaving?” he asks, accepting the offer, ready to make up for time he has deprived them for. “I’m here, Scully.”


End file.
